Before the Dream
by Forever Hopelessly Yours
Summary: Before the Dream will explain how the relationship started, and how the feelings changed from a simple teacher to pupil friendship into the burning romance between a man and a budding young woman.
1. Intro

Chapter One- Intro

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Everyone knows that The Phantom of the Opera was once considered to be an angel by his student, Miss Christine Daae. What of the years I before /I her angel developed his strange obsession for her? This story will explain the connection that formed between two lonely orphans, cast out from others, each trying to find someone to share their loneliness with, because everyone knows that misery loves company.

Before the Dream will explain how the relationship started, and how the feelings changed from a simple teacher-to-pupil friendship into the burning romance between a man and a budding young woman.

Please note, this is not a retelling of the classic story, and as soon as it hits the point that the movie starts, it will end. It's a prologue of sorts, and although I am a HUGE Erik/Christine shipper, this story isn't one that will unite them. If you are still interested, then please, continue reading my story, a story full of deception, lies, tears, and of course, lots of angst.


	2. An Angel Appears

Chapter Two- "An Angel Appears"

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Christine's sobs echoed off the stonewalls of the chapel the strange woman had showed her. The woman her father had requested to take charge of his child incase anything should happen to him had helped to make an altar for her father and then had left her to her mourning. Eyes red and swollen from crying were squeezed shut as Christine once again bent her head in prayer.

"Please Papa, come back to me. You promised me you would! You promised you would come back in my Angel of Music. Why would you lie to me, Papa? I was a good girl and went with the Madame you wrote to. I don't like her much, she's harsh and tells me I need to stop my crying. She doesn't know that I'm waiting for the angel you promised me Papa…you remember your promise don't you, Papa? You promised that once you got to Heaven and you were with the Lord you would ask him to send me an Angel to watch out for me and help me with my music." Christine paused in her prayer to sniff her noise and wipe off some of her tears on her sleeve. "Well I know you made it to Heaven Papa, but where is my angel? I'm so lonely without you! None of the other girls like me! They call me strange and whisper when they think I cannot hear." The small girl tried to calm her voice down so she could finish her prayer. "Well Papa, I'll keep waiting for my angel, because I know you wouldn't lie to me…I hope you're doing well and I miss you so very much. I love you, Papa."

Christine then tucked her head into her knees and continued to weep, unaware that her prayer was heard by a man other than her Papa.

"Christine! Your steps are all wrong! And you are a whole beat behind the other girls!" Madame Giry's voice was as sharp as a whip and instantly Christine could feel her cheeks burn. "Now fix it or get out of my company!" If the woman who had taken Christine into the Opera Populaire felt any remorse for the child barely seven years of age, she did not show it.

Christine meekly nodded her head and tried to correct her steps as best as she could. She had just learned how to dance a few days ago when she was brought here, and she felt horribly behind all the other girls who had all had at least a year of experience under their belts. Her father had never encouraged her to dance, in fact, the thought of Christine dancing had never even occurred to Daae, it was always obvious to him that singing was her talent.

After rehearsals ended Christine ran off the stage and started heading towards the chapel when she heard an older girl laugh at her. "Aww there goes the poor little orphan, off to go cry for dear, dead, daddy again!" Christine's ears were ringing with the cruel words and she felt tears spring into her eyes. Immediately she changed her course and started off towards the rooftop.

The small girl huddled behind a gargoyle on the rooftop, shivering in the cool autumn air that blew around her. Her hair was a tangle of brown curls whipping around her face and her nose was a bright red, either from her crying or the wind, one couldn't tell.

"I hate everyone here! I hate it here! I wish I were back by the sea! This place is awful! Madame Giry is too hard, the girls are too mean and the city is too loud!" Christine pouted to herself as she hugged her arms around her tiny body. She was about to open her mouth and complain more when she heard the faint sounds of a violin being played on the street. At once she picked herself up and moved to the edge of the roof so she could listen better.

"Oh Papa, how I wish you were here so you could play me one of your songs that always made me feel better. You would know exactly what to play to make me laugh and want to dance." Christine made a face. "I wish you could tell Madame Giry how to make me want to dance…all she does is yell…but you knew her before I did so you were probably already aware of the fact that she's a mean old witch." Christine continued to pout as she looked down at the busy Parisian street, trying to hear the violin over the bustle that the city was so full of. Soon the man finished and smiled as some elegantly dressed people dropped some golden coins in the case by his feet.

With a small sigh and a shiver Christine made her way back to her spot behind the fearsome statue, resting her back against the cold stone. She let her mind wander to happier times in a house by the sea. She thought of a man who laughed often and easily and a golden haired boy who followed her around like a puppy. Soon Christine's eyelids were fluttering closed and her mind slipped off into sleep.

Christine could hear the sounds of a fire crackling nearby and she was thankful for the warmth that surrounded her body. As her mind slowly started to wake up she found that she couldn't remember climbing into her bed. She sat up and took in her surroundings, calming down slightly when she realized she was in the girls' dormitories.

"That's strange…" Christine pulled back the covers and noticed that she was still in the clothes she had been wearing earlier. Her brow furrowed with confusion and she quietly slipped out of her bed and made her way down to the chapel.

Once she had reached the small stone room she quickly lit the candles on her altar and said a quick prayer of thanks before she started talking to her father.

"Oh Papa, I'm worried that maybe the other girls are right and I am losing my mind. I remember going up to the roof, but now I am here a good many hours later after awaking in my bed? I don't remember coming back into the opera house, nor do I remember climbing into bed!" Christine started to worry her bottom lip between her teeth but quickly stopped as she heard her father's voice scolding her in her mind.

Christine was about to stand up and extinguish the candles and head back to her bed when she thought she heard the sound of a violin being played again. She cocked her head to the side and tried to find the source, but she couldn't. It was so faint it was impossible to locate where it was coming from.

"Papa? Is that you?" Her young voice was full of hope and her eyes seemed to spark for the first time since her father's death.

The violin stopped and Christine's face fell, but as soon as the final note died a soft male voice echoed through the chapel. "Nay, I am not your father, but the Angel he promised."

Christine's eyes widened in amazement. "My Papa didn't lie! Oh I knew he would send you Angel!" Suddenly Christine seemed very confused "But, why can't I see you?"

Christine thought she heard a small chuckle resonate from the walls. "Silly girl, you think you can see one of God's angels?"

The girl blushed slightly and shook her head. "No, I suppose not. Angel, was that you playing the violin like my Papa used to?"

"Yes, it was I. He told me how you used to love to listen to him play, I thought you might enjoy it. Did you?" The voice was so calm and gentle that Christine found it easy to believe that it really was the Angel of Music her father promised her.

"Oh yes, very much so! I'm so glad Papa sent you to me! Wait till the other girls hear—"

"NO! You mustn't tell the other girls you have an angel." Christine jumped at the sudden outburst from her angel and at once her eyes fell down and a shamed look washed over her features

"I'm sorry Angel, please don't leave…I didn't know I wasn't supposed to tell. I promise I won't say a word, honest!" She desperately pleaded with the omnipresent voice, looking about widely, unsure of where she was supposed to direct her apology.

"Don't worry child, I know you didn't know, and I'm sorry I snapped at you. Its just very important that you don't speak of me to any of the other girls, for they will get jealous and start to spread more mean and hateful things about you." Christine nodded her head and tried to fight back a yawn that threatened her, but her angel noticed it immediately. "I can see you need rest. Hurry back to your bed, and if you need me just come to this chapel and call for me, I shall answer."

Christine nodded. "Alright, goodnight Angel, thank you for coming." Without waiting for a response the girl blew out the candles and quietly made her way back to her bed for the night.


	3. Finding Friendship

Chapter Three- "Finding Friendship."

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Although physically tired, Christine's mind was wind awake and buzzing. She had her very own angel! No longer did she care if all the other girls thought her mad, she knew she wasn't. She had to admit that she was disappointed that she couldn't see her angel, but he was right, why should God let her see one of His own? Christine let out a happy little sigh and rolled over in her small cot and tried to slip off into sleep.

As soon as the sun began its daily journey up into the clouds, Madame Giry was awake and down on the stage practicing ballet. Of course she no longer performed, but she had to stay limber enough to execute the moves she required of her girls. Just as the woman finished her last move she heard a whisper of her name from the shadows. Most people would be alarmed, but the ballet mistress was well aware of who was calling her and she rolled her eyes and made her way into the shadows to converse with the dreaded Opera Ghost.

"What do you need now, Erik? Haven't I supplied you with enough food for at least another week?" She crossed her arms over her chest and stared into the darkness, waiting for the man to answer her.

"This isn't about food, Antoinette, it's about the newest arrival to my opera house." His voice was low, but she could hear the distraction in his tone. Wonderful, he was up to something once again.

"Christine Daae? She's nothing special, but her father and my late husband were once friends, and I promised to take care of Christine should anything happen. Well Daae is no longer with us, God rest his soul, and I'm the new charge of his only daughter." She waited a moment to see if he would reply and when she received none she continued on with the girl's biography. "Scrawny little thing, I'm sure you've noticed, can hardly dance, but I plan to change that. Her father said she may have some talent singing, but the chorus is already full to bursting-"

"I shall decide if she is fit to sing in my chorus, and if she is I want her in." Giry raised a highly arched eyebrow as she heard the man's demand

"Ah, so perhaps you know more of this girl then you are putting off? Erik, don't get any ideas…" Once more the man cloaked in darkness cut off her words

"Antoinette don't you have a daughter near Christine's age? Meg isn't it?"

"Meg has just turned eight, but I don't see how she has anything to do with the topic we were discussing." The ballet mistress sighed and switched her weight from her left foot to her right, irritation starting to settle in as she waited for Erik to just spit out what it was that he wanted from her.

"Excellent. Have you introduced them? If not, then please do so. Christine is horribly lonely and I hate to hear her crying in the chapel every night. She tends to be horribly distracting."

"I shall try my best to encourage friendship, but I do not see my Meg becoming too attached to Christine. She is far too dreamy for Meg." She waited for another request but she was only met with silence. "Now, is that all you require from me?"

"Yes, that will be all…for now." Madame Giry heard a soft swishing sound above her head and she craned her neck up, but her efforts were in vain. Erik was not seen unless he wished to be seen.

After an adequate rehearsal Christine started to make her way off the stage but she heard her name being called by her instructor. She quickly made her way over and stood in front of the stern woman, her eyes quickly looking over the little blonde at her side.

"Christine, I realize that some of the older girls have been less than polite to you, and then I remembered that my daughter was near your age." She placed her hands on the little blonde's head.

Christine looked at the familiar girl, at once realizing that this was the dancer that the other girls were always talking about. She was incredible, even when compared to some of the older girls, but then again, she was the ballet mistress's daughter, and she probably received the most training out of everyone in the opera house.

"Christine, this is my daughter Magarette." With a slight nudge from her mother Meg extended her hand.

"Please just call me Meg." Her voice was cheery, but with her bright green eyes and golden hair, it seemed to match her perfectly.

Christine shyly grasped the other girl's hand and shook it before releasing it quickly. "Happy to meet you, Meg."

"Maman says that the other girls are being mean to you. They used to be mean to me, but I dance better then them now so that shut them up real good. They can be real witches sometimes, but just ignore them, they never stay long in the company anyways." Meg lowered her voice and leaned in to whisper in Christine's ear. "Plus, my mother says that most of them will probably end up pregnant…"

"Meg!" The older Giry girl had not missed what her daughter had said. "Christine has another task she must complete, please go run along and change, I'm sure dinner is almost ready." Meg nodded her head and waved goodbye to her new friend and then ran off towards the girl's dormitories to change out of her practice uniform and into something more comfortable. Madame Giry waited to make sure she had left before placing a hand on Christine's shoulder and leading her down the corridor that led to the manager's office.

"Please sing a scale for me." The manager asked her from behind his polished oak desk. Christine stared at him like he had just asked her to sprout wings and fly. She had known nothing of this special audition and she was close to fainting from nervousness right there. She had never before sung for anyone without her father playing, and when she did sing, it was for people she knew and loved that lived in the village. The manager gave an irritated sigh and looked up at Madame Giry. The woman had come into his office as soon as he arrived and practically demanded that the girl be placed in the chorus, and now she wouldn't even sing.

Madame Giry gently squeezed the scrawny shoulder of the curly haired girl. "Come now Christine, your father had told me how well you used to sing for him…" Christine looked up at Madame Giry, trying to remember how easy it was to sing as her father played.

With a large gulp Christine opened her mouth and sang a shaky note before regaining control, and after the first couple of notes her voice turned into the beautiful sound her father had often bragged about. After finishing Christine closed her eyes, unwilling to look at either LeFevre or the woman who still held her shoulders.

"Well Christine, your voice is very pretty, although clearly untrained. I do believe we could squeeze you into the chorus, although it is far too late for you to be placed in the current production, but you shall have a spot for sure in the next one." LeFevre smiled as he watched the girl's eyes snap open and a happy grin appeared on her face.

"Really? Oh thank you! I promise to practice so I don't sound so…untrained! Oh thank you so much Monsieur!" The giddy child made a smile break across the nervous manager's face too and he scribbled something down on some parchment and handed it to Christine.

"You are very welcome Christine, now tomorrow after your rehearsal with Madame Giry you shall take that to Monsieur Reyer and he will allow you to sing with the other girls in the chorus. Now if you will excuse me, I have some pressing matters of business to attend to." Christine saw his eyes drop to an envelope on his desk. Christine's brow furrowed slightly as she saw the strange red seal on the note. She couldn't see it very well but it appeared to be a grinning face of some sort…

But before Christine could try and examine the note any further she felt Madame Giry's pull on her shoulders and with a small curtsy she exited the room.

"Madame Giry, did you see that letter on Monsieur's desk? What a strange seal, don't you think?" Christine's innocent question sent a reaction through the ballet mistress that she was not expecting.

"Do not speak of that letter so loud Christine! Have you not heard the other girl's whispering about that very seal?" Christine's innocent eyes widened and she shook her head fiercely. Madame sighed and bent down so she could whisper to the girl. "It is from the Opera Ghost. He haunts this opera house." She paused when she saw the terror come across Christine's face. "Do not worry child, he will not waste his time harming an innocent little chorus girl. In fact, he doesn't harm anyone, so long as the manager does as he asks. He leaves him notes with instructions, and our good manager obeys." The woman was relieved to see some of the fright leave her charge's face. "But you must never go exploring in the dark, for it angers the Ghost. He considers the Opera Populaire I his /I opera house, and he does not appreciate nosy little girls poking around where they should not." Madame Giry rose then and looked down at the little girl, waiting for her reaction.

"Has anyone ever seen the Ghost?" Christine asked, wrapping her arms around her tiny body, and she felt better when she saw the woman shake her head. Maybe he was shy and just wanted to be left alone. There was nothing wrong with that, was there? "Madame, I think I'm going to go to the chapel and pray…" After a nodded approval from her instructor she made her way to the chapel, carefully avoiding shadows and poorly lit areas.

After praying to God and her father, Christine looked around and started calling for her angel. Soon her calls were answered.

"Hello, child, you called for me?" The voice wrapped around her like a comforting blanket and Christine smiled as she nodded her head and began to reply

"Yes, I wanted to tell you about the wonderful day I've been having today!" Without waiting for her angel to say anything she began explaining how she didn't get yelled at during her ballet practice, how she made a friend out of Meg Giry and then how the manager agreed to let her be in the chorus, although it was too late for her to learn all the songs for the upcoming production.

"That is wonderful! I am very happy for you."

Christine nodded in agreement but then her eyes darkened slightly and her voice dropped to almost a whisper. "Oh, but Madame told me about something today." She looked around her shoulders and lowed her voice even more. "Oh, Angel, I'm not sure if I can tell you…but you'll protect me from him so I suppose its alright. Madame told me that this place is haunted! There's a phantom living here!" A shiver coursed through the girl as she continued. "Isn't that frightening? A ghost! But Madame said that he doesn't like to be mean, and the only time he appears is if the manager doesn't listen to him, or if we go snooping where we don't belong."

Her angel was silent for a moment and Christine gazed quizzically around the room, wondering where the voice had gone. "Do not fear the Opera Ghost, Christine. I am your angel and I shall always protect you from him." There was a slight change in her angel's voice, but Christine assumed it was because he was worried about her so she did not question him about it. "Now, you told me that the manager said your voice was untrained? Please sing me the same scale you sang for him and let me be the judge of your voice."

Christine once more felt her stomach tie up in knots of nervousness, but she quickly reminded herself that this was HER angel, and he would help her voice, not make fun of it. She took a large intake of air and started to sing out the scale, closing her eyes and focusing solely on pleasing her angel. After finishing she slowly opened her eyes and waited for a response with baited breath.

"You have a very sweet voice, Christine. You are still young though, and it is true you can hear your inexperience in your pitch, but I can work with you, and one day your voice will ring out so beautifully that all of God's angels will weep."

Christine's eyes grew in amazement, he thought her voice capable of all that? "All I want is to become someone my Papa would be proud of."

"And you will be. Everyday after dinner I want you to come down here so you can practice with me. Make sure you drink tea without milk but instead honey, milk will hurt your pitch and make practicing that much harder, but the honey will soothe your throat, for no doubt it will be sore with two practices straining it daily."

Christine was about to reply when she heard someone calling her name. She called out a frantic goodbye to her angel and opened the door to the chapel, surprised to see Meg standing there.

"Christine? Is this where you always are? You'll catch a cold if you stay down here too long…come on, I want you to sit next to me at dinner!" Meg grabbed Christine's hand and started pulling her along, happily chatting about the opera that was going to be performed in about two weeks time.

Christine smiled as she listened to the bubbly blonde speak, realizing that she had made her first friend, well, her first HUMAN friend. Maybe the opera house wouldn't be so bad after all.


	4. The Wrath of an Angel

Chapter Four- "The Wrath of an Angel."

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It had been three weeks since Christine started working on her voice with her angel. The opera had been performed and had received superb reviews and everyone in the opera house was still in a great mood over their most recent success. Everyone that is, except little Christine Daae.

She had thought working with her angel would be great fun, she had been wrong. He corrected her on almost every little detail. He forced her to stand up straight and hold her shoulders back in the most uncomfortable position. Sometimes they didn't sing a note, but instead just worked on breathing exercises until her abdomen was screaming in protest to the pain. But when they did sing, they stopped almost every measure so he could point out how wrong she was doing it. And of course his voice was absolute perfection, rich and smooth and full of vibrato when he needed, yet completely absent of it when he didn't. He was an Angel of Music in every sense of the word, and Christine was starting to tire of his lessons.

All Hollow's Eve was quickly approaching and the manager had given the rest of the month of October off to the whole opera house so he could prepare a grand costume ball. Every night after dinner the girls would rush off to go work on their costumes and Christine would have to sneak off to avoid Meg so she could go practice with her angel.

One night Meg approached her during dinner. "Christine Daae! I am beginning to think that you are avoiding me!" Meg was quite the sight with he hands on her dainty little hips, her childish face pulled into a comical pout.

"Oh, Meg I'm not avoiding you and you know it! I simply…" quickly Christine tried to think of some excuse. "I simply do not know how to sew, and I know after dinner you go to sew your costume for the ball."

Meg's expression quickly changed from displeasure to pity as she believed the fib Christine fed her. "Oh! Well…don't worry, I'm a fairly good at sewing, Maman taught me when I was very young. I'll show you how tonight."

Christine was about to protest, but she thought about all the fun she was missing out on, and about how grueling her lessons were, so she nodded her head and took another bite of her stew, pushing thoughts of her angel out of her mind.

After dinner Meg took Christine to the storage closet. "Now…what do you want to be? I'm going as a fairy!" Meg batted her long eyelashes, causing both girls' to giggle. "Hmm let's see…" Meg moved around some of the spools of cloth, looking at all the colors, letting her inventive little mind take flight. "What about a witch?" Christine shook her head and scrunched up her nose. "Yeah, you're much too nice to be a witch…"

"How about a princess?" Christine offered

"No, Anna is already a princess, and you don't want to have the same costume as someone else." Meg found a pair of blue glittery wings and she held them up to Christine. "What about a butterfly? You would look so pretty in this color blue!" Christine walked over and took the wings and looked them over, a happy smile appearing on her face.

"Alright, a butterfly and a fairy, a perfect combination!" Christine replied happily as they grabbed some needles and then all the blue cloth they would need before they happily ran to their dormitories, unaware that a pair of golden eyes watched them from the darkness.

After a night filled with laughter (and a few pricked fingers) Christine had completed most of her costume. It was fairly simple to make. She would wear a blue leotard with black tights and black ballet slippers. On the leotard she and Meg had glued on some extra silver glitter from the prop closet. Then they used the blue cloth to make a ribbon for her hair. All they had left to make was a skirt to wear over the leotard.

As soon as Christine's curls hit her pillow she was fast asleep, but in the middle of the night she woke up with someone whispering her name. She opened her eyes, looking around for the voice that was now singing softly.

"Suffering child, all alone

An angel to her was shown

But she loved her angel not

And soon her angel was forgot."

Christine sat up and crept out of bed, trying to follow the source of the song that continued to repeat itself. Soon Christine was in front of the chapel door, but the song ended. Tentatively she opened the door and stepped inside, closing the door behind her and lighting a candle.

"Angel?" Her voice was weak and she trembled in her nightgown.

"Good evening Christine." His voice was even but Christine thought she could hear venom in it as he said her name.

"I thought I heard singing-" Christine started to whisper out but was cut off by her angel's voice

"Ah yes, it was I that was singing. But where were you tonight when you were supposed to be singing with your angel?" No longer was his voice even, but obviously angered.

"I…I was…" Christine tried to stutter out her answer but she was shaking too violently to respond.

"You were with that little ballet rat! Your angel sees, your angel knows!" His voice was so loud as it echoed in the small room that Christine let out a little yelp and covered her ears. "Insolent child! You beg and cry and wail for your father to send you an angel, and this is how you treat it!? You leave it so you can make a costume? So be it, your angel will leave you!"

Tears started to well up in Christine's eyes as she removed her hands and started shaking her head passionately. "NO! Please, no! I'm sorry Angel! I'm so sorry! I'll never do it again, I promise! Please don't leave me!" Christine fell down in a pitiful heap, sobs wracking her small body as she continued to choke out her pleas to her angel.

"Of course you are sorry now! Everyone is sorry when they are afraid of losing something. What made you think you could ignore your angel? Do you think me dim, Christine? Do you think I would not see you with that girl?"

Christine lifted her head. "No, no, no! I do not think you're dim at all! You're wonderful and kind and perfect and so very smart! I don't know why I thought to go with Meg tonight! Please Angel, forgive me!" Christine truly was a lamentable sight, her brown curls sticking to her wet face, her eyes red and her nose running, all this while she was curled in a small lump on the floor.

A sigh could be heard flowing into the room. "Very well then Christine, I shall remain for now, but if you ever do it again, I will not return. I won't tell you I have left either, I shall simply return to Heaven without sending you any kind of notice."

"Thank you! Thank you so much!" Christine pushed herself up off the ground and she bit her lip as she looked toward the wall. She was unsure if she was truly forgiven or not. After a fight with her father he would always hug her and tell her that he loved her, but she could not hug her angel and make sure no sour feelings still lingered. Suddenly Christine realized that her angel could never fill the place of her father like she had hoped and fresh tears brimmed in her doe-like eyes.

"Why do you still cry child? All is forgiven now." His voice was back to its calm and caring nature it had been when she first encountered him, but it did not help to ease Christine any.

"I'm sorry I'm crying again, and I know my reason is childish." She choked back a sob. "But…all I want is a hug…and I know Papa sent you to help me, and I'm grateful, I am! And although you give me someone to talk to, I cannot hug you like I could Papa…" Christine's words were cut off by her sobs

Behind the wall a man's heart broke for the lonely child in the stone chapel. He had never been affectionate, knowing that he had no one in the world to give his affection to, but never before had he wanted to hug someone as badly as he did in that moment. Not only did he want to hug the crying child, but also he wanted to hug her and wipe away her river of tears and tuck her away into the safety of her bed. He shook his head and tried to harden his heart, why did he wish for the impossible? He was an angel to her, and an angel he would remain. And angels did not suddenly appear to hug weeping girls.

"Christine, Christine." Her cries softened as she sang her name softly. "Stop your tears and ease your fears, Christine." She continued to sniffle and she tried to wipe her face off on her sleeve the best she could, although a few tears still managed to leak down from her eyes.

"Thank you Angel. I…I think I should go to bed now." Christine took in a shaky breath and waited for her answer.

"Yes, you need rest. And do not worry about practice tomorrow. Have fun with your friend and finish your costume for the party."

Christine nodded her head and bade her angel goodnight as she blew out the candle and solemnly made her way to her bed, ready for another night where she softly cried herself to sleep.


	5. Touched by an Angel

Chapter Five- Touched by an Angel

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After a night filled with little sleep, Christine woke in the morning feeling more drained than she did when she laid herself down. She was grateful that she had no rehearsal to rush off to and just as she decided to try and roll over and get more sleep she felt her bed bounce and she let out a little yelp in surprise when she felt Meg land on next to her on her small cot.

"Good morning sleepyhead! Do you know that it is nearly ten o-clock? I hope you aren't hungry, because you slept through breakfast." Meg moved around on the bed and got situated. "I wanted to come wake you, but Maman said that you had a hard night and needed rest."

Christine was surprised when Meg told her that Madame Giry knew she had received little sleep. Either the ballet mistress knew she had been up, or she had heard her crying. She hoped it was the latter, because if she found that she had been out past curfew she would be punished, and knowing Madame Giry, it would not be some easy punishment.

"I'm not hungry anyway." Christine said and then let a little smile break across her face. "But I do have to give you something." Christine waited for Meg's face to light up before she whacked her upside the head with her pillow. "That's for jumping on my bed!" Christine shouted as she jumped out of bed and ran across the room.

Meg sat shocked, but only for a second. "Why you little!" The blonde girl cried to the brunette. She snatched up another pillow from another girl's bed and chased after Christine, their happy laughter and girlish shrieks caused a smile to appear on the man hidden far above their heads.

Later that day the two girls were hard at work finishing the skirt for Christine's costume when they were interrupted by a gaggle of older girls. Christine and Meg's easy chatter quickly died when the other girls barged into the room, and they averted their eyes and tried to just blend in with the room as much as possible. A tall redhead named Hannah noticed the pair sitting near Christine's bed and pointed at the butterfly wings.

"What are you rats doing?" Her voice was cruel and her face was turned up in an ugly sneer

"We're making Christine's costume for the ball, do you have a problem with it?" Meg answered in a fiery tone, causing Hannah's eyebrows to jump high

"Ohh, you're lucky you're Madame's daughter!" Hannah snatched up the wings sitting near Christine's feet and examined them.

"Hey! Give them back!" Meg jumped up and tried to grab the wings, but the cruel girl held them over her head, just barely an inch over her head.

"Tsk tsk! Now, Christine, what are you going to do with such a pretty pair of wings? Were you planning on going to the ball? I thought you would be too busy crying over your poor papa!" Hannah watched Christine's expression, a satisfied look on her face as she heard her friends join in with a chorus of laughter.

Christine's eyes narrowed as she sat before the girl, and she realized that she was the one who made fun of her that day after rehearsals. She could feel her blood boiling in her veins, but she didn't move or reply fast enough, for Meg was already screaming back at the redheaded witch.

"YOU'RE MOTHER WAS A WHORE!" Everyone's face fell in shock as they heard what the little blonde screamed. Hannah turned pale and turned to face the little Giry.

"YOU SHUT UP! You don't know ANYTHING about my mother!"

"Oh yes I do! Your mother was a whore and she LEFT you here because she didn't want you! And I don't blame her because you're a-"

"MEG GIRY!" Madame Giry's voice was as sharp as a dagger as it cut threw the air. Now it was Meg's turn to blanch bone white and she turned to face her mother with the wide eyes of a small child caught robbing the jar of sweets. "What in God's name is going on in here?"

"She was making fun of Christine because her father-" Meg frantically tried to explain but she was silenced by her mother.

"You will come with me, now." Meg took a large gulp of air before she nodded her head and walked towards her mother who swiftly closed the door behind her. Her steps could be heard going down the corridor, and once Hannah knew Madame Giry was out of earshot she let out a pained cry and ripped apart the beautiful wings and threw them at Christine.

"I hate you!" The redhead screamed at the poor girl before rushing out of the room, quickly followed by her friends. Christine continued to sit, fingering the shredded wings gently. It was just two days before the party, and now she would either have to skip it or make a brand new costume. Tears of frustration stung Christine's eyes but she quickly wiped them away when she heard the door opening.

In walked Meg, her face red, and it was obvious she had just cried, and by the way she gingerly sat on Christine's bed it was clear how her mother had punished her for what she had shouted at Hannah. Christine rose and sat down next to her friend.

"Is it true her mother was a whore?" Christine asked quietly, purposely avoiding the question as to what Madame Giry had done to her.

Meg smiled slightly and nodded her head. "Not only that, but a cheap one too. Mother told me that before every opera she would linger around backstage and would practically BEG the men to have her for the night." Both girls laughed quietly.

"Serves her right, she acts like she's so much better then everyone else, she's just as unlucky as the rest of us." Christine said. Meg nodded her head and was about to reply when she noticed the ripped up wings strewn about where Christine had been sitting.

"Oh no…she's ruined your costume!" Meg cried while Christine just nodded dumbly

"Yeah…I guess I just won't go to the party…" Christine sighed, Meg on the other hand would hear no such thing.

"Oh yes you are going to the party! We'll just have to make you another costume!" Meg pushed herself off the bed gently and started to make her way out of the room, for sure headed back towards the wardrobe rooms, Christine following right behind.

Again, the two girls looked all through the old costumes and cloth, looking for something fitting for Christine. They saw plenty of gypsy costumes, none that would look very flattering on Christine, and just as they were about to give up Christine found a beautiful silver dress with thousands of little beads sewn along it. She held it up to Meg. "What about this? I think its part of an angel costume!" Christine said and continued to rummage about until she found a pair of feathered wings to go with it. "It is! Oh and look how pretty these are!"

Meg came over as fast as her sore bottom would allow and looked over the dress. "Oh I remember this! Last season we put on an opera and the ballet girls were cherubs, and the lead was our angel. See, that's why the dress is so light, and the skirt is short so she could twirl and such." Meg held it up to Christine's body and examined it. "Hmm, it'll be a little big, but we can alter it!"

The girls felt excitement raise within them once again and they grabbed some needles and thread, along with the dress and the feather wings and hastily made their way to dormitories that Meg stayed in, they were afraid that Hannah or some of her friends would be back in Christine's room to seek some more revenge on the girls.

The modifications did not take much time at all, and after an hour the dress fit Christine like it had been hand crafted for her young body. They ran down to the prop closet and managed to find a small wire hoop, which they decorated with silver glitter and ribbon to make a halo for Christine. After putting the finishing touches on the outfit they carefully stored it with Meg's in her mother's room and then went downstairs to go find something to occupy their time until dinner.

The next two days seemed to fly by. Meg and Christine were recruited into the decorating committee and they busily painted spooky trees on wooden boards provided by stage boys and helped hang streamers along the banisters of the elegant staircases. Finally it was the night of the party and the girl's happily went to go put on their costumes before the Parisian public arrived.

Meg looked like a picturesque image of a fairy with her blonde hair curled gently around her shoulders and tons of little sparking jewels adorning it. Her costume was a simple white leotard with pink stitching and matching wings, and she held a small wand found in an old box in one of the prop closets. Her cheerful green eyes twinkled with excitement as she waited for Christine to come out from behind the dressing screen in her costume.

The fairy let out a little gasp as her friend shyly walked out from behind the dressing screen. The dress fit perfectly on Christine, and her feathery wings looked so real it was hard not to believe her a real angel. She was wearing pearl white ballet slippers, along with white tights, and they seemed to mold beautifully into the costume. Her brown curls had been pulled back with a low ribbon and the halo was snuggly in place with pins, and because of the sparkles they had adorned it with, it appeared that she was really a saint.

"Oh Christine! You look gorgeous!" Meg sighed as she walked around her friend, taking her in from every angle.

Christine blushed and hooked her arm with her blonde friend's. "Oh Meg stop, you look just as beautiful as I do, if not more so." Meg was about to argue but Christine gave her a look that told her not to bother and they both laughed happily and made their way down to the already busy party.

The two girls had been at the party for about an hour, and they were having a fairly good time. Of course, they were much too young for any of the boys dressed as knights and wizards and devils to pay any attention to, but a good number of the stage hands looked over at them. And once Madame Giry came over to announce that they both looked stunning.

The pair was seated at a table facing the grand stairwell and they watched as costumed people walked up and down, discussing which costumes they liked and which ones looked silly. They both laughed when they saw a man dressed as a jester descend but their laughter stopped as they saw a man dressed as a skeleton follow after him.

"His costume is so creepy!" Meg whispered to her friend, and Christine nodded her head in agreement. He was rather tall, and he wore a black shirt and trousers with painted bones on it, but the mask he wore looked so realistic that it was made the costume almost frightening! Christine's warm brown eyes locked on with his golden ones and she had to drop her gaze at once it was so intense.

Meg continued to watch the man out of the corner of her eyes and she leaned in to Christine to whisper to her once again. "He's walking straight towards us."

"What?" Christine had been gazing at the dance floor, wishing she herself could find a partner, but when she turned her head she saw that the skeleton man was quickly approaching them. Just as Christine was going to suggest that maybe they get up and switch tables, maybe one closer to Madame Giry, the man was standing in front of them.

"Good evening, Mademoiselles, I saw how exquisite your costumes were and I decided I just had to come by and compliment each of you on them." His voice was flowing and rich…and Christine found it very familiar although she could not place her finger on where she had heard it.

"Thank you Monsieur" Christine practically whispered and then turned her head towards the dance floor once more. Meg chimed in a thank you too, her voice a little below a squeak and Christine had to bit her tongue to keep from laughing.

"Mademoiselle, would you care to dance?" Christine turned he head back towards the man, surprised to see he was addressing her.

"I am…I have never danced this waltz Monsieur." She could feel her cheeks blushing and she still found that she could not look the man in the eyes.

"Ah, but it is simple and all you need to do is follow my lead. Please? You are surely the most beautiful woman in the room and I must have a dance with you before the night is done with." He offered her his black-gloved hand, and after a moment's hesitation she placed her small hand in his and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor.

Christine ended up dancing with the skeleton man for most of the night. Even though she had never danced formally in her life, she found it easy with her partner, and because of all the little dips and extra twirls he added in she found her cheeks and stomach sore from laughter. Soon the band was packing up and people were starting to make their way towards the door.

"Thank you for being my dancing partner, you truly are an angel!" The man gave Christine an over exaggerated bow and she clapped her hands and giggled more.

"Oh no, thank you Monsieur! I'm sure I would have ended up going to bed, bored, hours ago if not for you!" Christine said with a large smile on her face.

"Ah, well I'm sorry I kept you awake! I do believe that you are rather young to be up at such a late hour!" He jested with Christine, but she knew his words rang true. It was indeed long after the time she was normally in bed. Her thoughts wandered to her angel. Was she supposed to go meet him after the party? And would he be angry with her for going? She hadn't exactly been told a time to meet him, but then again, this was probably later than he thought she would be out.

"I'm afraid you are right, and I believe that I must be getting to bed." Christine said, her smile fading as she realized that her festive night was coming to an end.

"Yes, well it was too good to last, wasn't it?" The man said before giving her another bow. "Good night my dear angel."

Christine smiled. "Good night to you as well, Monsieur." Christine curtsied and then started to walk up the grand staircase before turning the corner and making her way to the chapel

Once she had made it to the chapel, Christine quickly lit the candles and called out to her angel. Now, normally he would appear only seconds after she called, but tonight it took him a minute or so to respond.

"Christine? I wasn't expecting you to come tonight, not with the celebration going on." Christine's eyebrows rose in shock, she was expecting him to chide her for going to a party instead of working on her voice.

"I didn't want you to think that I wanted you to leave…I hope I didn't wake you or anything." Christine wasn't sure if angels needed sleep or not, but she believed they needed to rest. A day full of answering prayers and watching over people must be tiring, right?

"No, no, I didn't think that. Tomorrow though our lessons shall pick back up again, and I expect you after dinner."

Christine nodded her head and moved to sit down against the wall, a yawn welling up inside her chest, but she held it back. She knew that if her angel saw her yawn he would tell her to go to bed, and she wanted to tell him about the strange gentleman she had danced with all evening.

"Angel, I had such a fun time at the party! All the women looked so beautiful in their costumes, and the men looked so funny in theirs! Well, most of them, there was this one man, he was dressed as a skeleton, and his mask looked like it was a real skull." Christine paused to stifle another yawn. "Oh but he was very friendly, in fact he invited me to dance, and I thought that no one would ask me to dance since they were all so much older…" Christine continued to mumble on about the skeleton man, even after her heavy eyelids had dropped down to cover her eyes. Soon she had fallen asleep against the wall.

The man who watched her from a hidden spot in the chapel had the hint of a smile on his lips and he looked at the little girl, still in her costume, fast asleep. Silently he walked over to her and effortless picked her up and took a passage known only to him back to her room so he could once again place her in her bed.


	6. Birthdays and Beaus

Chapter Six- "Birthdays and Beaus"

hr 

I About three years have passed since Christine came to the Opera Populaire and it is now the morning of her tenth birthday /I 

hr 

Christine woke an hour before the sun had begun to rise. She released an agitated sigh as she threw back her covers. There wasn't a chance that she would receive anymore sleep, she was far too excited. Today she was turning ten years old and although she knew she wasn't going to receive many presents (if any) or have a party, it was still her birthday. She silently pulled on her dress and made her way down to the chapel, a route she had memorized long ago.

Once inside the chapel she lit the candles for her father and bent her head in prayer

"Good morning Papa, I'm sure you know what today is. I can't believe I've spent three years without you…I can still hear your laugh and it seems like only yesterday I was brought here. I wish so badly that you could be here…I still miss you." Christine paused to take a deep breath, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. "Well…I don't have much more to say. I love you Papa…" Christine ended her prayer but she continued to stare at the sole picture she had on the altar of her father.

Not too long after her prayer had ended, Christine heard the familiar voice of her Angel. "Happy Birthday, Christine."

A smile broke across her face and Christine turned around to face where it sounded like the voice had emerged from. "Thank you, Angel!"

Above her head, a man took the time to examine the girl sitting in the plain cotton dress on the cold stone floor. She had grown much in the three years she had been at the Opera Populaire. Her once chubby cheeks were starting to thin out, and her high cheekbones would one day make her appear elegant, but for now, they seemed slightly awkward on her young face. She wasn't very tall, but her arms and legs seemed to stick out from her body like twigs. An affectionate smile rested on the man's lips, never before had he cared to watch as a child slowly grew up.

"Angel?" Christine had obviously been chattering on about something while her angel had been busily studying her maturing appearance.

"I'm sorry child, I allowed my thoughts to wander, what was it that you were saying?"

Christine crossed her arms across her chest, a little irritated that her angel could get distracted, but she quickly got over it and repeated what she had been saying. "I was telling you about Pierre! He's the new stage boy and Meg fancies him, or at least I think so, she hasn't said anything about it yet, but you can tell. Anyway, I think he's thirteen, and he seems very nice." Christine paused and waited to see if her angel would say anything. Once she had brought up her childhood sweetheart and he had seemed almost angry with her, but she assumed he just felt protective, and it made her heart swell when she heard the fatherly tone he had taken with her. But she was older now, and she wasn't talking about her own affection, but Meg's.

After several moments, her angel answered. "Hmm, I haven't seen Pierre around yet. Does Madame Giry know of her daughter's inkling towards this boy?" Christine shook her heard and her angel made a thoughtful noise.

"Of course, if Meg paid him attention he would probably welcome it…" Christine made a sour face as she thought of her best friend. As awkward as Christine was, Meg was the opposite. Already her petite form had thinned out and her golden hair always shone like the sun. She had beautiful green eyes and Christine had mud brown ones, and while Christine had knobby-knees with little chicken legs, Meg had beautiful and elegant dancer legs.

"Christine…do not envy Meg. She may be pretty but you will be beautiful. And all she will ever have to her career is dancing, while you have your voice. What hopes does a ballet rat have? To maybe become a ballerina? Ballerinas do not become famous my dear, divas do."

Christine seemed to cheer up when her angel told her that, but she felt somewhat guilty for getting jealous over her best friend. Meg had been the only girl kind to her, and here she was, trying to find faults in her.

"Thank you for cheering me up, Angel." Christine chanced a peak at the small window and she saw that the sun was just beginning to rise over the horizon, casting pink and orange rays up towards the heavens. It was hard to tell what was shining more, the few remaining stars in the sky or Christine's eyes. "Oh, Angel look! I love sunrises, I think sunrise is my favorite part of the day." Excitedly Christine rose from her seat on the floor and made her way to the window, standing on the very tips of her toes to look out the window.

"Yes, they are very beautiful, but I believe that means that you have about half an hour before people will rise and notice you missing."

Christine sighed and stood back on the soles of her feet and looked back towards the wall she always faced when talking with her angel. "You're right…I suppose I better go back then." The girl's face fell; often she wished that she could stay all day with her angel. Of course she had grown to love the opera house and most of its occupants, but she would much rather sit and chatter all day than perform silly dances and sing in the background.

"It would probably be wise. I shall see you tonight after dinner." Christine nodded and blew out the candles on her altar and said goodbye to her angel before exiting the chapel and heading back to her room to finish getting ready for the day.

After rehearsal, Meg ran up to Christine and gave her a tight hug. "Happy birthday, Christine!"

A large smile broke across the brunette's face as the blonde released her. "Thank you!" Christine was going to continue to talk with Meg but she noticed that her friend's green eyes had been distracted by something behind her. Slowly Christine turned her head around at once saw what had distracted her best friend, Pierre.

Christine had to admit, he was very attractive. Of course since he was three years older then the girls (well, two and half to Meg, a fact she pointed out to Christine all the time) he was a great deal taller then them. His hair was a dusty blonde; almost a light brown, and his dark eyes had specks of grey in them. Although he was not overly muscular, both Christine and Meg had noticed the lithe muscles in his arms and back when he would bend over to pick up a crate or some prop.

Pierre seemed to sense that there were eyes watching him because he turned around suddenly, causing the pair to blush and quickly move their gaze elsewhere. Pierre smiled and walked over to them.

"Ah, Christine, exactly who I was looking for." Christine could feel her face burning and she tried to say something in response, but no word came out. Pierre continued to smile and continued. "I heard it was your birthday." He picked up her hand and placed a chaste kiss on her knuckles. Christine thought she would faint and she could almost feel the envious rays shooting from Meg.

"T-T-Thank you…" Christine managed to stutter out. She realized that the boy still held her hand and she looked down at his hand, and then back to his eyes, and then once more at his hand, as if to make sure it was real.

"I hope to see you around." Pierre said before gently releasing her hand and walking away. As soon as he was out of sight and earshot Meg rounded on Christine.

"You. Have. All. The. Luck." Meg's arms were crossed over her chest and a pout was set on her cute little face.

"I do not think I shall wash this hand for a very long time." Christine wasn't looking at her friend, but down at the hand that Pierre had kissed.

"I thought you didn't like him, that you were waiting for the boy who saved your scarf to come and find you?" Meg raised a brow and waited for Christine's answer.

"I am, but I'm sure he won't be here for a very long time. Plus, it isn't like I I asked /I for Pierre to kiss my hand…" Christine giggled when she saw her friend's sullen look. "Oh calm down, he'll forget about me in a day, plus, we both know that you are the beauty between us, maybe he was just being nice because it was my birthday,"

"He wasn't that nice to me on my birthday." Meg grumbled

"He wasn't working here when it was your birthday." Christine smiled as she saw Meg finally grin and uncross her arms, a sign that she was placated.

"You're right. Well, you better get to Monsieur Reyer, I'm sure your voice lessons are about to start and I wouldn't want you to get in trouble on your birthday." Christine nodded and the two girls said their goodbyes, oblivious to the pair of eyes that stared at them from behind the curtains.

"He must be fired!" Erik bellowed to the stern woman who was seated calmly behind an old oak desk.

"Erik, I cannot just march into the manager's office and demand a boy to be fired because he kissed a girl's hand." Madame Giry rubbed her temple with her fingers; sometimes Erik could be most tiresome.

"What will he do next? The girl is barely ten! Think of your older girls, he is obviously a threat to them! He could impregnate them—"

Madame Giry held up her hand to silence the ranting man who was pacing furiously in front of her. "Honestly Erik, I thought that you would be happy your little pupil has found another friend. She only has you and Meg."

"No, she does not NEED another friend, already your daughter tries to distract her from her lessons enough…" Erik managed to stop his pacing and plopped down in a chair against the wall. "She is too young to be taken into the trap of men. She is innocent and pure, and I will not allow her to be tainted."

"You're being over dramatic…"

But Erik would hear no more and he gave Madame Giry his ultimatum. "Either inform the manager that you believe the new boy to be incompetent or I shall handle it in my own way…" Without waiting for a reply, he opened the door and disappeared into the shadows of which he came.

Christine's voice was horrible that night, and she was getting frustrated, as was her angel. After about thirty minutes, she crossed her arms over her chest and sat on the floor. "I am not going to sing another note." She declared stubbornly.

"Yes, you are."

Christine shook her curls. "No. You're in a grumpy mood and you're making mine bad too. I do not wish to sing with you right now." She stuck out her lip in a defiant manner.

"You are behaving as a spoiled child." Christine could hear the carefully contained anger in his voice but she did nothing but stick her little noise farther in the air. "Christine…you are testing my patience."

"Well, you are testing mine! You're being mean and rude and you know it."

"You will do as your told! You are but a child, you do not decide if you shall listen to your angel or not!" His voice had finally risen to a yell and Christine jumped once in shock, but that was only sign she gave.

Silence passed in the room, and then finally a large sigh could be heard coming from the man. "Fine. Do not sing, but you are only hurting yourself in the end." Christine immediately stopped pouting and uncrossed her arms.

"Good. Anyway, I wanted to tell you about my day! It was wonderful!" But before she could go into any detail her angel cut her off.

"Ah yes, I meant to address that with you. I saw your actions with Pierre, do you think your father would have been happy to see such a thing as that?"

Christine couldn't have been more shocked if someone had told her Christmas was being canceled. "What? We did nothing wrong…Madame Giry surely would have said something, she was standing not three feet away…"

"That is not the point Christine. You are not going to grow up to be some easy little ballet tart." Christine wasn't exactly sure what a 'ballet tart' was but she wasn't about to question him. "I want you to stay away from Pierre, as I only see trouble in the future should you continue to play along with him and his silly games."

Christine was so close to tears, but somehow she managed to hold them back. "I think you're being unfair…" She whispered out, her voice tight and constricted because of the effort she was applying to it to prevent a sob from slipping from her lips.

"It is not up for discussion, I am your angel, and do you think you know more than I? If that is the case then surely you have no more need for me…"

"No Angel, I do not think I know more than you…and I wish you to stay, please." Christine blinked furiously and took a few large gulps of air, finally regaining her composure.

"Very well."

"But I am very tired, today has been draining. I would like to go and retire now please."

Christine was aware that her complaint about the day being draining was a lie, and she was aware that her angel probably knew that too. In fact, he was the only thing that had made it draining in the least bit. Madame Giry had once said something about a prize being a blessing and a curse, perhaps this oxymoron applied to her angel as well. Of course she was glad he had come to her just as she needed someone the most, but over the years he had been growing more and more snappish with her, getting upset over things she saw nothing wrong with.

"Yes, there is no use in trying to get you to sing tonight, as obviously you will have none of it."

Christine nodded her goodbye and quickly blew out her father's candles and exited the room. Erik breathed a sigh of agitation and returned to his home as well.


	7. A Ghostly Appearance

Chapter Seven- "A Ghostly Appearance"

hr 

The day after her birthday, Christine decided she would sleep in instead of waking up early to wish her angel good morning. Of course, he didn't require her to visit him in the morning, but unless she had stayed up late the night before, she normally did. Christine was fully aware of the fact that he would know she was ignoring him, but she was still upset and to be completely honest, she didn't want to apologize to him just yet.

The little girl stayed in her bed as long as she could but soon she heard Meg's voice calling to her.

"Christine Daae if you do not get up this instant my mother is going to come in here and beat you with that stick of hers!" Meg had her hands on her hips, trying her best to look intimidating.

Her comical threat about Madame Giry made Christine sit up, her face set in a dramatic look of terror. "Oh no! Please! Not the rage of Madame Giry!" Christine joined in with Meg's laughter as she pushed back her covers and stretched, shoving back the small pang of guilt she was feeling for ignoring her angel this morning.

The Opera Populaire was beginning work on the production of I Don Carlos /I and Christine and Meg were busy learning their new chorography, along with the rest of the ballet rats. Christine had become a much better dancer over the years, passing up Hannah, the redheaded witch who had tormented her so much during her first year. Hannah, now thirteen, resented Christine with a fierce passion and often found ways to still make her life difficult. Hannah's spot was behind Christine, an ideal spot for her to stick her leg out just an inch too far when Madame's back was turned, causing Christine to stumble. Christine had learned to anticipate this action though, and today she managed to move her leg to the right just the slightest bit, much to Hannah's disappointment. Soon Christine had to turn her back to the audience and face her partner behind her. She could see Hannah's sneer and she tried her hardest to ignore the bitter girl.

"Daae, it's such a shame you have to scrunch up your horrid little face like that when you dance…no wonder Madame Giry makes you turn around." Hannah said in a voice only loud enough for Christine to hear. She had been unaware that she was focusing so hard on her steps that she had furrowed her brow and bit her lip slightly. Quickly she relaxed her face and flashed Hannah her brightest smile.

Hannah rolled her eyes and then twirled away with the rest of her dancing group. Christine continued with her steps, trying very hard to listen to the beat of the music and not mess up. If only dancing was as easy as singing. When she thought about singing she thought of her angel, and once more she felt the burning of guilt settle in her stomach.

"Ouch!" Christine was jarred out of her thoughts when she collided with another dancer.

"Stop! Christine? What has come over you? I haven't seen you crash into another girl since you were seven!" Madame Giry barked. Christine felt her face burn as she heard a wicked giggle come from someone behind her, and she had a strong notion of who was laughing. "Hannah you have no room to giggle, your posture is that of an old woman's. Fix it now please or I shall have you dance in a corset." Madame Giry waited a moment as Hannah straightened her back, making sure she corrected herself properly. "Good. Now, places girls, from the top!"

After rehearsal Christine was out of breath and weary to the bone. They had gone over the movement so many times she thought she could do it in her sleep, which was Madame Giry's point, no doubt. Meg seemed to feel just as tired as Christine because she didn't say a word when they met near the prop room door. The pair started their way down to the ballet dormitories to change out of their practice clothes when they heard someone calling Christine's name.

"Christine! I was looking for you after rehearsal!" The pair turned around, surprised to see Pierre striding towards them.

"Oh, hello Pierre." Christine chirped up instantly, but she heard her angel's voice in the back of her mind, warning her to stay away from this boy. "I'm very tired…Madame works us very hard...and I must be getting to Monsieur Reyer for choir rehearsal…" She tried to sound nice, but not inviting…she had no idea how often her angel watched her and she did not want him to think she was disobeying him.

"Why aren't you a busy girl." He smiled and Christine felt her heart flutter. "Oh well, I guess I'll see you at dinner?" He sounded so hopeful that Christine had smile and nod. "Great! Well I won't delay you any longer. I'll see you two around." He bowed his head slightly to each girl before turned and going back the way he came.

After Pierre left, Meg seemed to come alive suddenly. "Christine! You know that you don't have to go see Monsieur Reyer for another hour! And since when are you too tired to speak with Pierre!"

Christine shrugged. "Meg…he is a little old…why do you think he's showing such interest in me, instead of someone older, perhaps someone like Hannah? She's his age after all…" Christine started back on her way to her room, Meg following next to her with a look of disbelief on her pretty face.

"If I didn't know better I would think you were I trying /I to not like Pierre." When Christine didn't say anything Meg continued. "Are you mad!? Christine all the girls are talking about him! Now I know I am not the smartest girl in this opera house, but I know that he fancies you! And you want him to like Hannah??"

"I'm not saying I want him to like Hannah, I'm saying it's a little strange that he would pick a girl three years younger then him to try and court. You said it yourself, almost all the girls are talking about him, and he could have his pick of just about anyone. I just don't want to turn into his little….ballet tart." Christine said, using her angel's words.

Meg's mouth fell open in shock. "What!? Did Hannah tell you that's what would happen? She's jealous, you know that! I'm sure he doesn't want a tart, he would have picked Hannah if he wanted a tart, I think he wants you to be his sweetheart."

"I already had a sweetheart. Then he went off and forgot all about me, remember?"

"Oh are you talking about Ralph or whatever his name was? Goodness you two were little kids!" Meg's exasperation was evident in her voice.

"His name was Raoul. Anyway…I'm saying I don't like Pierre, I just want to make sure his intentions are good, that's all." Christine said as they reached their rooms. Meg still gawked at her like she had just said she could breath underwater but said nothing more.

The girls disappeared behind the doors and a man disappeared behind a door hidden in the shadows.

During her choir rehearsal, Christine heard a bellow of pain come from behind the stage somewhere. Monsieur Reyer cut off his singers and looked over at one of the stage boys who came running out.

"Pierre's hurt!" The boy said before running back to the painful cries.

Christine felt her heart freeze for a split second. She looked over at Monsieur Reyer, who was rushing off to find the opera physician, and without another thought, she left her spot and ran backstage to where Pierre was lying on the ground, clutching his leg.

"Pierre! What happened?" Christine said as she fell to his side, her eyes wide.

"A sandbag fell on me! I was going to the prop closet to make sure everything was put away correctly when it just fell! No one was up there, it was just me and Rickie left back here…" Pierre said.

Christine felt her blood run cold. It just fell? Could it be that the Opera Ghost was present? But Madame Giry said he only came out when someone wasn't where he or she belonged, and Pierre was a stagehand, he was supposed to be back here. "I'm sure someone just forgot to tie it securely." Pierre seemed to scoff at the idea and Christine thought it sounded a little weak herself. "Monsieur Reyer has gone to get Doctor Horrwick, they should be here any moment…"

"Will you stay?" Pierre asked, his eyes hopeful and pleading. Christine couldn't refuse.

"I'm sure Monsieur Reyer will tell me to go back on stage with everyone else, but I'll stay as long as he'll allow." Her answer seemed to satisfy the boy. Christine gently placed her hand on his leg, glad that she didn't feel any strange bumps popping up under her touch. "Well, I don't think you broke it, if that makes you feel any better." Christine said lightly, pleased to see that Pierre's face was relaxing slightly.

"That's good news. If it was broken, I'm afraid I would be out of a job. A stage boy is no good if he can't walk."

Just as Christine was about to reply, she heard a stern voice calling her name. She looked back to see Madame Giry, Monsieur Reyer and Doctor Horrwick striding towards her. "Christine, the doctor is here, you should go back to the stage now." Madame's words were strict, Christine knew better to argue if had she wanted to. She looked down at Pierre and smiled warmly at him.

"See you at dinner." She said before standing back up and walking back towards the stage. Just before she reached her destination though, she thought she heard a soft swoosh behind her and she spun around just in time to see a flash of white and the soft click as a door closed. Christine froze. What had she just seen? And where had it gone? She knew the Opera Populaire fairly well and she knew there was no door in this corridor. With shaky legs, she ran back to the stage, her face as pale and her eyes wide.


	8. A Voice from Heaven

Chapter Eight- "A Voice from Heaven."

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Dinner conversation was buzzing about Pierre and the sandbag. It seemed that everyone had agreed that it was no accident and the Opera Ghost was to blame. When Christine asked Madame Giry about it, she shook her head and informed her that The Phantom was often the scapegoat of the opera house. It seemed that every time something went wrong, or something went missing, he was to blame. Christine thought about telling her about what she saw but she decided against it and instead decided to tell the younger Giry lady.

Christine had whispered what happened to Meg at the dinner table, thankful when her friend didn't laugh and call her crazy. Instead, she seemed enthralled, and made Christine repeat it over.

"Wow! I KNEW Maman was wrong! She kept telling me that I was as silly as a goose for believing the gossip around here when I told her I thought I had seen him during one of our late rehearsals. I think we should go check that hallway for the door you were talking about…" Meg said, excitement rising in her voice.

"No, Meg, we mustn't! Everyone here says it, he hates it when people go snooping! And that would definitely be considered snooping." Christine replied, looking over her shoulder, as if she was afraid the ghost she had seen would pop out at her just for the suggestion from her friend.

"Ugh, you are just as bad as my mother…fine we won't go…" Meg said, obviously deflated as she pushed some peas around on her plate. She looked up and saw Pierre looking down that table at them and she instantly inflated again. "Pierre is looking at you. No don't look! Isn't he lucky he just got a little muscle strain? He can still take you out to the park, if you don't mind him limping a little…"

"Oh Meg you're horrible!" Christine said, although she had a small smile on her face. "I think Pierre just wants a friend…"

Meg laughed. "Oh yes…a friend who he can kiss."

Christine rolled her eyes, she knew it was pointless to try and prove her friend that Pierre and she had nothing going on. Christine let her gaze wander around the room, trying her best to avoid looking towards where she knew Pierre was sitting. She could feel his eyes on her and she knew she was blushing so she dropped her eyes once more to her food and ate as fast as she could so she could leave before her face turned as red as the beets on her plate.

After dinner, Christine hurried down to the chapel to meet with her angel, lighting the candles with a shaky hand. "Angel? Angel are you here?"

"I'm here child. Why do you sound so nervous?" His voice was calm and reassuring, and Christine let out a thankful sigh

"People are saying that The Opera Ghost is angry about something…" She blushed, unsure if he angel would think her silly if she told him she was a little afraid traveling around the opera house in the dark after what she had seen. "Madame Giry told everyone it would be better to not wander around after dinner unless we absolutely needed to…you know, just in case."

"I see. So you're worried that you may bump into The Opera Ghost?"

"I…well…I thought I saw…something…backstage earlier this evening, maybe I was just scared because of what happened to Pierre. A sandbag just fell down for no reason…"

"Knots can untie." Her angel interjected.

"I know…he was lucky it just fell on his ankle though, he could have been seriously injured.

I He was lucky my aim wasn't up to par tonight /I thought a man hidden behind a stonewall. "Yes, very lucky indeed. But did you come down here just to talk about this boy or were you planning on singing at all?"

Christine suddenly sensed that her angel was testy tonight, so she just nodded her head and waited for her maestro to instruct her.

"I have some wonderful news for you." He waited for her to ask what it was before he continued. "As you are aware, the Opera Populaire will be performing I Don Carlos /I soon." He gave a dramatic pause. "In this opera there is an aria called I A Voice from Heaven /I and I believe you should sing it."

Christine sat shocked for a moment. "Me?? But I couldn't possibly…" She stared before being cut off by her angel once again.

"You could. The audition will be held in three weeks time. I believe by then I can teach you the aria like it was written for you. Your voice has grown with you and I think you are mature enough to handle this role instead of singing in the background like everyone else."

Christine blushed, pride swelling in her chest. Her angel thought she was capable of a role as large as this? "Thank you…" That was all she could manage to say

"Now, your role is indeed much larger than what you are used to, but I do not want your head to swell too large, the role is not a huge one. You will sing one aria and depending on how the Monsieur Reyer wants the scene to look, you may not be seen at all." Her angel told her gently; unsure of how Christine would take the news that she wasn't the star of the opera

"Oh I don't mind that! I'm just glad you think I'm ready to sing all alone!" Christine replied happily

A slight chuckle bounced around the room, "Ah Christine, you have the voice of an angel and a heart to match. Now let our lessons begin for the night."

The next three weeks seemed to fly by Christine. Madame Giry had choreographed many intricate dance scenes, her lessons with her angel were becoming very difficult, and Meg was beginning to get jealous because she was seeing less and less of her friend, and on top of all that Pierre was trying harder and harder to make excuses to talk to Christine just as she was trying harder and harder to find ways to avoid talking to him. Finally, it was the day before auditions and Monsieur Reyer had given the whole choir the night off because so many people were auditioning and he wanted to allow them to rest their voices. Normally Christine would be thrilled with her unexpected free time, but Meg was working on her dance moves with her mother and she wasn't supposed to meet with her angel until later that evening, but with all this unexpected free time Christine had no where to run off to when she heard Pierre's voice calling after her as she was walking down the hallway.

"Christine Daae! How long did you think you would be able to avoid me before I finally caught up with you?" Christine turned around and tried to feign ignorance.

"What do you mean? I wasn't avoiding you…"

"Don't lie, its not becoming." Pierre was now standing in front of her with his arms crossed over his chest and Christine found she was unable to meet his gaze.

"I've been very busy, I have dance rehearsal, and Monsieur Reyer would kill me if I held up the rest of the chorus because I was late, and then I have extra lessons with…" Christine stopped suddenly, she had nearly said 'then I have extra lessons with my Angel' but had stopped herself just in time to recover, "Meg! I have extra dance lessons with Meg…"

Pierre seemed to consider this for a moment and uncrossed his arms. "Oh…I'm sorry for accusing you then, please forgive me. It's just…well, after the sandbag fell, I thought you were frightened of me, like I was bad luck or something."

Christine offered him a small smile. "Oh no! That's silly! Of course you're not bad luck!"

Pierre smiled back and seemed to relax completely. "Well, I happen to know for a fact that Monsieur Reyer has given his whole choir the night off, and you aren't dressed for dance rehearsal, would you please honor me with your company?"

Christine stood frozen. She could hear her angel screaming at her to avoid this boy and she remembered his angry words…but then her heart was dying for her to accept his invitation. She finally let her eyes meet his, and she nodded. "I would be delighted."


	9. Rooftops and Invitations

Chapter Nine- "Rooftops and Invitations."

hr 

Pierre led Christine up to the roof just as the sun was beginning to set. It was started to get slightly cold so he offered her his jacket and as she put it on she inhaled the slightly spicy smell on the collar, and it vaguely reminded her of how her father smelt after he had shaved in the morning.

The pair walked over to the railing and neither of them said anything for some time. It was a comfortable silence though, and when Pierre gently laid his arm around her shoulders, Christine didn't shrug it off or try to move away.

"Christine…I hope I'm not being too forward or anything, but I like you. You're not like most of the girls here, no, you're not like most of the girls I've ever met. Even though you're younger than I, I feel like we're on the same level. You aren't loud and desperate for attention, and you don't wear all that heavy rouge or lipstick." Pierre paused and turned to face Christine, whose face was as pink as the setting sun, which caused Pierre to laugh. "That's another thing I like about you. You're sweet and gentle, and you're so modest about it, honestly Christine, don't you have any flaws?"

"Pierre, you make me sound like a saint! I'm not really as good as you say…"

"Really? I can't recall a time when you were harsh or crass, and when the sandbag fell on me, you stayed with me, even though you didn't have to…Christine, I can't say I'm not captivated by you."

"You really shouldn't be…"

"I was so angry when I thought you were avoiding me, and I even considered the possibility that some other boy had captured your heart before I had the chance. But then I talked to your friend Meg and she told me you were afraid that I thought of you as nothing but an easy target, a young and willing little play thing. Never in a million years Christine! I realize I am older than you, and there are plenty of girls my own age in the opera house, but I already told you, none of them hold a candle to you."

Christine was about to open her mouth to say something when she heard her name being called. She twisted her neck to look behind her shoulder, but saw no one. "Did you hear something?"

Pierre seemed confused for a moment and shook his head. "Nothing but the wind…"

Christine was spooked though and she increased the distance between Pierre and herself. "It's getting too cold, and you don't have your jacket. We should go inside before one of us gets sick…" Christine started to walk back the way they came before Pierre could object. The silence that surrounded them on their journey back inside the opera house was much less comfortable than the one they had earlier, but Christine didn't care about that now. She knew she had heard her voice on the rooftop, and she had a fairly good idea of who was calling her.

When the pair reached the bottom of the stairs Christine looked around, her eyes searching for the white mask she had seen the other day, but she didn't see it. She thought about looking for her angel, she knew it was his voice she had heard, but she didn't know what he looked like or how he would appear to her, so she didn't bother. Pierre sensed her uneasiness, but he didn't know what had happened to cause her such anxiety so suddenly.

"Well Pierre, I had a nice time talking with you…I'm not sure if we should continue such meetings though…"

"What? Why not? I'm sorry if I spooked you with what I said! Honestly, I didn't mean to…"

"No, no, it's not that. What you said was fine, it was very nice, thank you. Its just…oh well you know how people gossip, and the production is just about to start, so I won't have any spare time or anything, and won't you be busy with getting props and stage equipment ready?"

Christine could see the hurt come over Pierre's face, and she felt horrible. He had just laid out all his feelings for her, and she was practically blowing him off.

"Oh Pierre! It's not that I don't like you! Honestly, I do!" Christine lowered her voice and looked down at her hands, frightened to say what she had been wanting to say since he brought her to the roof. "I've fancied you right from the start, and when you kissed my hand on my birthday, you made me the happiest girl in Paris. Just, Madame Giry told me to stay away from boys, she said they would just distract me and make my life at the Opera Populaire much more difficult."

The hurt seemed to wash off of Pierre's face and he wrapped Christine up in a tight hug, lowering his head to whisper in her ear. "And right now, you have made me the happiest boy in all of France." He placed a kiss on Christine's cheek before whispering one last thing in her ear

Above the pair an angry set of eyes watched from the shadows before stalking off with a violent squish of his cape.


	10. A visit from The Phantom

**Author's Note: Sorry about the hr's and i 's and such at the beginning of the chapters. They are there because the site I originally posted this story on didn't have basic HTML and they were for line breaks and italics and such. No worries though, the newer chapters won't have any now that I know they aren't needed.**

Chapter Ten- "A visit from The Phantom"

Christine stood in the hallway for a moment, her eyes following Pierre as he walked away. She waited for him to round the corner so she knew there was no chance of him turning around and seeing her, and then she ran as fast as her young legs could take her, straight to the chapel.

She knew her angel had seen all the events that had transpired, and she knew he was furious. How many times now had he warned her to stay away from the boy? Had he not made it perfectly clear how he did not approve? What if he left? Christine could feel the tears welling up in her eyes as she ran down the corridors, praying for forgiveness the whole time.

By the time Christine had slammed the heavy door behind her she was out of breath and tears were falling onto her cheeks. She hastily lit a candle and offered up a quick prayer to God and her father.

"Angel? Angel! Are you here? I'm sorry! I know you're mad and I'm sorry!" She frantically called out, but she received no answer. She tried again and again, so long that her candle flame was beginning to sputter and the light was dimming fast.

He was gone. She knew it. She had disobeyed him directly and he had gone back to heaven, disgusted in her. Christine curled up in the corner of the room and cried until the candle finally died out completely.

A new sense of terror started to fill Christine now. She was alone, in the dark, without the protection of her angel. He had promised her that The Phantom would not harm her, but she had sent him away with her own stupidity. How would she get back to her room? Christine felt her small body begin to shake as she stood up slowly and walked silently towards the door. She turned the handle and pushed…but it wouldn't open.

Pierre paced nervously around the corridor he told Christine to meet him in. They had only departed two hours ago, but she seemed to have disappeared. They were supposed to meet up here thirty minutes ago and after ten had passed and there was no sign of her, Pierre had gone searching for her. Her little friend Meg hadn't seen her and she hadn't shown up for dinner. Pierre was worried, but after looking all over the opera house he decided to go back to their meeting spot, hoping that maybe she would show up.

He ran a nervous hand through his hair and then paused. There was no one around in the corridor, but he was certain he had just heard the sound of someone else's footsteps. Hope swelled up inside him. "Christine?"

"I'm afraid not." The ethereal voice came from the shadows and Pierre's eyes couldn't see the man who had spoke them.

"Whose there?" Pierre tried to control the fear in his voice and he swallowed the hard lump in his throat.

"You know exactly who I am, Pierre." The figure of a man took a small step out of the shadows.

Pierre took one look at the intimidating figure and turned to run, a scream forming on his lips, but never leaving, thanks to the thick rope that suddenly wrapped around his neck.

Christine, in her state of panic, continued to bang frantically on the door, screaming and crying, hoping that someone would notice she was gone and go looking for her. Suddenly Christine felt her chest tighten and her head lighten. She had to place her hand against the wall to steady her shaky body, and with one last gasp she crashed to the floor, unconscious.

Erik unlocked the door to the chapel silently, expecting to hear Christine begging for forgiveness and pledging her undying loyalty with promises to never disobey again coming through the wood, or at least her banging on it to get out. But he heard nothing. Carefully he opened the door and saw nothing but inky darkness.

The man felt an icy grip of fear clench his heart. He knew Christine was in the chapel when he locked her in, he had watched her fly in. There was no way for her to get out, unless she had found one of his secret tunnels. He tried to push the door open but it encountered an obstacle. Erik turned back down the corridor to grab a candle and started down one of his many tunnels.

Once he emerged from the tunnel inside the chapel he walked towards the door, curious as to what was blocking his entrance. He nearly dropped the candle when he saw the seemingly lifeless form of Christine face down on the stone, her wild curls splayed about.

Erik rushed over to her and turned her over, panic pumping through his bloodstream when he saw the small trickle of blood coming from a deep gash in her head. He grabbed her and held her close to his body, cursing under his breath. He removed one of his black leather gloves and located her pulse. It was beating frantically under his fingers and realization dawned on him. She had come to the chapel, and her angel was gone, something blew her candle out and she was alone in a haunted opera house, and then she encountered a locked door, she must have blacked out from the fear.

"Christine I'm sorry…" Erik whispered as he wiped off some of the blood on her young face. He continued to hold her as her pulse slowly returned to a normal rate and he took her back to her room by one of his corridors. After he was sure she was safely in bed he ran to fetch Madame Giry.

"What is it you need now, Erik?" Madame Giry looked up from the book she had been enjoying as Erik entered her room, unannounced and unapologetic.

"Christine fell and hit her head, I think it would be wise for you to call the doctor." Erik announced.

Madame Giry stood up, her eyes wide and her blasé attitude gone. "Is she ok? What happened to her?"

"I believe she had a panic attack." Erik said and started to turn out to leave. "Oh, and perhaps you should look into getting another prop master."

Madame Giry felt her hair stand on end. "What do you mean…"

"I told you I would take care of the problem, Madame." He locked eyes with the woman and then left without another word.


	11. Continuing

Chapter Eleven- "Continuing"

---

"Christine…"

"Christine…"

"Christine…"

Christine groaned and tried to roll over, but she couldn't due to the large bandage wrapped around her head. She tried to remember where she was, and why there was a bandage on her head, but her memory was too foggy, and there was a dull thudding pain in her head unlike any she had ever felt before. She decided it would be easier to go back to sleep.

"Christine I'm sorry…"

That voice had haunted her dreams all night, along with the feeling of a cool hand on her head and warm arms holding her tightly. She tried to ignore the voice calling out her name and just go back to sleep. She was so tired.

"Christine!"

Christine snapped her eyes open to see a teary-eyed Meg standing before her.

"Oh thank God! I've been calling your name for ages. You've been sleeping for so long…how does your head feel?" Meg said her voice full of worry and concern.

Christine opened her mouth to reply but the only sound that she could make was a throaty grunt. Her eyes grew in horror as she realized her voice was gone, and her throat felt like it was on fire.

"I'm fine." Christine managed to whisper. Meg looked at her with pity.

"Oh! You poor thing. I'll go fetch Maman in a minute and ask her to fetch you some tea with honey." Meg said and then carefully climbed onto the bed next to her best friend. "Do you remember how you hit your head?"

Christine tried to recall, but she couldn't. The only thing she could remember was someone apologizing to her. She shook her head no.

"I didn't think you would. Maman, of course, won't tell me either. She said you were probably very stressed and passed out. She said you were hoping to audition for some role."

Christine had forgotten about that. Tonight was the audition! She let out a little groan, there was no way she would be able to audition now, since her voice and her angel had left her.

Meg seemed to understand what Christine's groan was about and chose not to make a remark. She opened her mouth to say something else, but the door opened and Madame Giry walked in.

"Meg, did I not tell you to come inform me as soon as Christine woke?" Madame Giry asked, arching a brow at her daughter

Meg looked down at her hands. "Yes…she just woke up though, I was just asking her if she remembered how she had hit her head…I was about to come get you."

"Yes well, I am here now, so feel free to be on your way." Madame said, her tone implying that there would be no need for any further argument.

Christine watched as Meg got up and left dejectedly, and then as Madame Giry sat in the spot Meg had just vacated. She had so many questions, but she could not voice a single one.

"Well, I'm going to assume you don't remember much from last night. The doctor said that you would probably suffer from some slight memory loss, but over time you will regain it. All you need to know for now is that you had a mild panic attack and fainted. Had you not been in the chapel you probably would have just had a painful lump, but because you fell on stone, you suffered from a small concussion. Now the doctor said I could take the bandage off when you awoke, but be warned, you have a nasty little gash across your forehead." Madame said this all slow enough for Christine to understand it, but not so slow that she felt like a stupid child.

Madame leaned forward slightly and started to unwrap the bandage that wrapped around Christine's head. When she was done she got up and retrieved a small hand mirror from one of the vanities and then held it up for Christine.

She gasped when she saw it. It was on the upper right-hand side of her forehead and stopped just a little before her eyebrow. The cut had scabbed over but it was still outlined in an angry red color. She knew the other girls would probably make fun of her, and she found herself wishing that Madame had kept the bandage on her head.

"Christine, there is also one other thing…" Madame sat back down and waited a moment before continuing. "I hate to have to tell you this…I know you and he were friends, but…Pierre died last night."

"What?!" Christine croaked out. She had just seen Pierre, he couldn't be dead! She suddenly remembered the thing he had whispered in her ear, the last thing he had ever told her.

"Meet me in the west corridor in two hours. I think I could fall in love with you, Christine."

Those were his last words to her. Christine felt her eyes sting and burn as tears formed in them. He was dead. Pierre was dead.

"He was in the west corridor, alone. No one is exactly sure why, it's not used at all anymore. We think there was a break in and the robber strangled him. We are currently checking inventory to see if anything was stolen."

Christine's heart broke when she heard this. He was in the corridor, waiting for her. How long had he waited? Did he think she wasn't coming on purpose? Then another thought suddenly struck her, what if she had shown up in time? She would have died too! The robbers would have seen her and they would have killed them both! Thank God the door had been locked.

She had forgotten that. Someone had locked her in! That didn't make sense. No one ever went down to the chapel, that's why she knew she could meet up with her angel there. Her angel. He was probably back in heaven looking down at her with contempt. Maybe he knew all along that Pierre was going to be killed, and that was why he wanted her to stay away from him. She would never get to ask though, he had left her.

Christine felt a whole new sense of loneliness fill inside her, and she started to sob. Madame wrapped her arms around her and soothed her. Everyone she had ever cared about had been ripped out of her life. Her father, Raoul, her angel, and now even Pierre. Christine continued to cry until she fell asleep in the ballet mistress's arms. With sad eyes Madame Giry gently placed Christine back against her pillow and left the sleeping girl in peace, after all, she had a new prop master to meet.

---

Christine woke sometime that night because of the pain in her head. She gingerly touched the cut on her head and winced as it stung from her gentle prodding. She threw back the covers and started towards the roof.

She shivered in the cold night air, but a part of her liked that fact that she could still feel. She felt horribly empty. Of course, she still had Meg, and Madame was as much as a mother as she had ever known, but how long would it be until they were taken away from her as well? Christine walked over to one of the statues and sat down against it, her tears falling freely down her face.

Soon Christine's fingers and toes felt frozen and she decided to go back in, and just as she had left the shadows cast by the statues the door flew open and a dirty looking man burst through the door. A pungent smell hit Christine's nostrils and she felt like gagging. The man held a bottle of liquor and was happily talking to himself.

"I got the job!" He happily hiccupped and then continued on in his drunken chant. Christine tried her best to walk around him and go unnoticed, but he caught her before she had taken two more steps. "Ah, what's this I see?"

The drunken man started to walk towards Christine and she felt her heartbeat start to race and her head start to pound. She looked around frantically, searching for some kind of escape, but she found none.

"Aw, you don't need to be scared of ole Joseph Buquet!" He said and gave her a wicked smile, revealing a mouth full of broken and disgustingly discolored teeth.

"Help!" Christine tried to call out, but her voice wasn't back and it just sounded like a sad little grunt.

Buquet found this hilarious and started laughing, all the while advancing towards her. Christine found her self subconsciously backing up towards the statue. When she finally hit it she could nearly feel the drunk on her and she closed her eyes and cowered down in a ball, sobbing and silently begging him to leave her alone and just go away.

Christine heard a sharp cracking sound and she screamed, and then she heard a dull thud. She kept her eyes closed for a second longer before slowly opening them, expecting to see Buquet about to grab her.

Instead she found him passed out on the ground, his liquor bottle broken around his head. Christine didn't stop to think about how or why; she just ran as fast as she could back to her bed and threw her covers over her bed. She laid there and trembled for a while before she finally drifted back to an uneasy sleep.

---

Christine woke up in the morning feeling awful. Her head and throat were still searing with pain, and she still had that sick hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach, but now there was a seed of fear. The man the opera house had hired to replace Pierre was a crazy drunk, and Christine shivered as she thought back to their meeting last night.

She paused to contemplate who could have smashed the man's bottle of his head. Perhaps he was trying to throw it at her, and somehow in his drunken stupor he had misjudged and had brought it against his own head? It seemed unlikely, and a week ago Christine would have guessed her angel had protected her, but now, he was gone.

Christine shook her curly head. She wouldn't think about that anymore. Life, at least for her, was not over, and she had to learn to continue on with that she still had, and that included a roof under her head, warm food to eat at night, and a friend who loved her dearly, along with her mother who might as well be her own.

She slowly got out of bed and got dressed for ballet practice and just as she finished lacing up her shoes, Meg came in.

"Oh, I thought you would have slept longer. Maman sent me to tell you that you won't have practice until the rest of the week; she wants to make sure your concussion is better. But she wants you to sit in the audience and observe, so at least you sorta know what it's supposed to look like." Meg said

Christine sighed and unlaced her shoes and started to change back into regular clothes, aware that Meg was hovering close by. "Anything else?" Christine's voice was back, but it was raspy and low, much to her horror.

Meg seemed a little taken back by Christine's voice, but recovered quickly. "Are you alright?"

Christine pulled her head through her dress and turned to look at her friend. She stood there, staring at her, almost like she was expecting her to break any second. "I will be. I just need a few days, I think."

Meg nodded and walked over to her friend. "I'm sorry you had to go through it, I don't think I could have handled it." She said and embraced Christine in a hug.

Christine could feel the tears bite at the back of her eyes as she returned the much-needed hug, but she held them back. Tears didn't bring back her father, and they wouldn't help her now.

"You know I'll be here, right? Incase you ever want to tell me about it." Meg said as they pulled away

Christine felt a small smile tug at her lips. She knew Meg was dying to know all about the incident that had occurred, but she also knew that Meg felt too bad to actually come out and ask, so now she had sent the offer out, but in the politest way possible.

"I know, thank you, maybe tonight." She said as the pair walked down to rehearsals, Meg to dance and Christine to watch. Meg wasn't aware, but her words had more of an impact that she knew. Christine needed to know that Meg would be there when everyone else was gone.


	12. Fighting the Darkness

-1Chapter Twelve- "Fighting the Darkness"

---

The week went by slowly for Christine. Her voice returned a little more each day, and her head stopped hurting so much. Unfortunately, her heart's pain was not dulling in the least bit. Every day she would walk down to ballet practice with Meg and watch as her friend danced across the stage. Meg was truly a vision when she danced. Although Meg was only ten, she danced better than any of the other girls. Christine felt a small amount of jealousy as she watched her fair-haired friend, but quickly shoved it away. Meg was nothing but kind to her, and she never shoved her talent in anyone's face. Still, Christine wondered what it would be like to be able to dance so well, so naturally.

After rehearsals came to an end, Christine would walk back to the dormitories with her friend and listen intently as Meg chattered on about this and that. Christine was thankful for Meg's constant babble, because even when what she was saying was pointless, it kept Christine's mind occupied. Today, Meg was talking about how there was a rumor that Hannah the Witch was being pulled out of the Opera Populaire.

"They say it's because of...well...the incident..." Meg said, carefully watching Christine for her reaction. Meg had tried to avoid talking about Pierre's death, she knew it would upset her friend.

Christine's face fell slightly as her mind went back to what had happened to Pierre. "Well, good riddance. She never deserved to be here in the first place." Christine said, putting on a happy facade. In all honesty, she was truly happy to be rid of the witch, it would be one less person to try and break her spirits down.

Meg nodded and then directed the conversation off onto a new topic, but Christine had stopped walking. Meg noticed after a second and turned around, confusion written all over her pretty little face. "Christine?"

"_Christine..." _A voice softly murmured her name, and Christine felt her blood run cold.

"I forgot I was supposed to speak with Monsieur Reyer, go on ahead, I'll meet up with you later..." Christine lied before turning around and rushing the other way, leaving Meg standing in the corridor, a worried expression replacing the confused one she had moments earlier.

Christine ran backstage, her stomach knotted in fear. She knew she had heard someone, or something, saying her name. It was the same voice she had heard in her dreams after she hit her head. It sounded so distant, so soft, and if she hadn't heard it so many times she could have pretended she was just imagining it. But knew she wasn't imagining it.

"_Christine..." _She heard it again and she felt tears pop into her eyes. It was following her, and she couldn't escape it. She felt like she was trapped in a game of cat and mouse, and she was the mouse. Christine pumped her legs harder as she ran down the corridors, praying to God for protection. She didn't know what, or who, she needed protection from, but she knew she needed sanctuary somewhere. Normally she would have gone to the chapel, but now even that sacred room scared her. Christine turned right and burst into Madame Giry's office, her eyes wild with fear and her chest heaving from lack of air.

"Help me!" Christine cried out before finally fainting on the spot

Madame Giry watched the girl in horror and rushed to her side, catching her a moment before she hit the ground. "Christine? Child, what happened to you?" Madame said, aware that Christine was passed out and unable to hear her. She gently picked her up and placed her on one of the soft couches she had in her office and covered her with a small blanket.

She gazed at the child with sadness. Erik was driving her mad. She was too young to understand what was happening to her. As if on cue, her door opened and the masked man appeared in the room, quickly looking around for Christine. He never said a word to the woman standing before him, watching him with wary eyes as he walked over and knelt next his young protégé.

"Erik, what are you doing to her?" Madame whispered, her motherly instinct to protect the little girl raising in her chest.

The masked man slowly turned his head to face his old friend, his golden eyes glaring. "I am not doing this to her. She is refusing me, fighting me, and it's making her ill. She needs me." He growled before turning his face back to Christine's body. She looked so fragile laying on the couch, almost like a wilted flower.

"Stop it. Leave her alone, she is too young! You're frightening her!" Madame hissed, carefully watching to make sure Christine wasn't waking. The last thing the poor girl needed was to wake up and see a strange masked man looming in front of her, watching her like a lion watches its prey.

"_I_ know what is best for her! _I_ have guided her for three years, and she turns from me now? She is mine, I will not let her slip away!" Erik roared as he stood up and faced the ballet mistress.

Madame Giry gasped slightly at the sudden outburst from the man, but she regained her composure almost immediately, she would not allow him to intimidate her! "If you smother her, she will only try harder to rid herself from your chains." Madame walked over and placed her hand on Erik's shoulder so she could gently lead him away from the couch. "Erik, she belongs up here. I know you see it. Don't force her to live as you do, it's not fair to her. She's fragile, and your darkness will destroy her."

Christine's eyelids fluttered and she let out a groggy moan as she tried to sit up. Erik took one last look at her before exiting the room swiftly, leaving Madame alone with Christine. The ballet mistress took a deep breath, Erik had seemed to take her news well, but maybe that was because Christine had started to wake. Only time would tell, but in the mean time all she could do was hope.

"W-what happened?" Christine said as she opened her eyes fully and looked around.

"You over-worked yourself and fainted, my dear. Come, I'll take you back to Meg, maybe you two can go to the park? I think the fresh air would do you go." Madame said gently as Christine carefully sat up and rose from the couch.

"That sounds like a good idea..." Christine muttered. The pain in her head was searing, but she knew sunshine and fresh air would lift her spirits. "Madame, may I ask a question before I leave?"

Madame Giry smiled and nodded. "Of course."

"Who is Erik?" Christine asked and looked up at her mother-figure, surprised at her reaction. Madame's eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped for a second before she could catch herself.

"Erik? Surely you are mistaken?" Madame Giry said, her mind trying to come up with something to tell the child before her. How could she explain to Christine that a grown man, one who was a known murderer and madman, was stalking her?

"No, I'm certain you said Erik. When I was on the couch, I remembered hearing his voice, and you called him Erik..." Christine prodded, her eyes studying Madame Giry's closely. She had never seen her flustered before, and her curiosity was getting the better of her. Why would the mention of a name set off the woman like this?

"Christine, I think you were dreaming. There has been no one in this room other than yourself and I." Madame said and briskly walked over to the door. "Now, you should go find Meg and go to the park, before it gets too dark.

Christine nodded and walked out of the room. She was confused and uncertain about many things, but she knew there had been another person, a man, in the room. What she didn't know was why Madame Giry was trying to hide that fact from her.

---

Meg was happily surprised when Christine asked her to accompany her to the park, and she agreed immediately. Christine felt her spirits start to raise as soon as they stepped outside of the opera house and into the brilliant sunshine of the day. Meg seemed to sense the happiness her friend was feeling and she smiled, glad to know that the dark clouds that seemed to be looming over her friend for so long were starting to dissipate, if only a little.

Once the pair reached their destination they sat down in a grassy shaded spot and talked. Christine even managed to smile and laugh a few times.

"I'm so glad to see you smile again Christine! I was afraid you had forgotten how!" Meg exclaimed

Christine smiled extra wide, showing her friend that she had not forgotten how to smile. "I know, I've been so gloomy lately. Thank you for sticking with me..." Christine said

Meg seemed shocked that her friend was thanking her for being there. "Oh, Christine! You don't have to thank me! I'm your friend, I'm supposed to be there for you."

"I know..." Christine said as she picked at the grass around her feet. "Meg, did you ever meet a man named Erik in the Opera Populaire?"

Meg was silent for a minute as she thought about the question. "Not that I can remember, why?"

Christine shook her head. "It doesn't matter, I just thought I heard someone being called Erik and I couldn't remember there being an Erik at the opera house..."

Meg arched her eyebrow "That's because there's not. I know everyone who works there, you know, because of Maman. And there is no Erik..."

Christine nibbled on her lip. "That's odd..." Meg nodded and her eyes sparkled.

"Maybe we should...investigate..." Meg couldn't hide the excitement in her voice.

Christine laughed and rolled her eyes. "Meg, it's not _that _odd. Erik could have just been a visitor, or maybe a potential patron. I doubt that he's anything more than that."

Meg's excitement seemed to die down at her friend's rational thinking. "I suppose you're right." Meg crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. "For the record, you're no fun at all."

Christine giggled and stood up. "Well neither are you. Come on, we should go home before it gets dark." Christine offered Meg her hand and the pair made their way back to the opera house, unaware that a pair of cat-like eyes had been watching and listening to them the whole time.

---

Christine stood in front of the grand entrance of the opera house for a minute, aware that Meg was standing on the steps waiting for her. She felt her heart start to race and her eyes trailed the magnificent building, all the way to the roof. _That roof…_ Christine thought. So many strange and unexplainable things had happened to her on that roof. Her eyes gazed at the angles that adorned the top and she felt a small smile tug at her lips, but then her gaze fell on the gargoyles and it vanished. They were so menacing! They seemed to glare at the angles with envy, and they were so furious that Christine shuddered and dropped her gaze back down to Meg who was impatiently tapping her foot.

"Will you come on already? Dinner is almost ready, I can smell it from here!" Meg said as she crossed her little arms over her chest.

Christine sadly started walking towards her friend. For so long the opera house had provided her with a sense of happiness, it was her home! But now the dark corridors and creaky floorboards frightened her, and every shadow was a potential danger. Christine took one last breath and walked inside, her spirits dropping at once. The darkness of the opera house was flooding her soul.

Meg had been carefully watching Christine and her face wrinkled with worry. Her poor friend was in some sort of internal conflict, and there was nothing she could do. She quickly started chattering about dinner to try and bring some sort of distraction to her friend, but she knew it wasn't working when Christine stopped at the foot of the grand marble staircase.

"Christine?"

Christine looked up at her friend, tears shining in her big doe eyes. "I'm so scared of this place…"

Meg wrapped her arms around her friend as she started sobbing. Meg had lived in the Populaire her whole life, and there had been many times when she was scared, but Christine was more than just scared, she was terrified. "Christine, don't worry, I'll go get Maman…" Meg soothed, but when she tried to pull away Christine clutched her arm tightly, her eyes wide in fear.

"No! Please don't leave me alone!" Christine whispered, looking around frantically.

Meg felt her stomach knot up, Christine was starting to frighten her. "Ok, you can come with me."

That seemed to suit Christine better and she followed closely behind Meg as they made their way to Madame Giry's office.

Meg didn't bother knocking when they arrived, and Madame didn't seem to mind when she noticed that Meg was trailing a petrified Christine.

"Meg, you make go down to dinner." Madame said, although her words were not harsh. Meg did not argue and gave Christine one last hug before scurrying off.

Christine stood trembling in the doorway and Madame slowly made her way from behind her desk to her. "Christine, tell me what scares you so." She said gently.

"I-I don't know! I feel like something is haunting me. I can feel eyes on me all the time now, and then I think I hear someone calling my name! Oh, Madame! I'm going mad, aren't I?" Christine cried as she cradled her aching head in her hands.

Madame was about to respond, when she noticed to glaring eyes shining at her from the shadows of her room. Erik. She felt her blood boil. He saw what he was doing to the poor girl, and still he persisted! She locked her eyes with Erik's angry gold ones and spoke. "Do not fear, Christine. The Opera Populaire houses many things, but I can assure you that you are safe from whatever dangers you seek. But, if it would ease you, why don't you go down to the chapel and pray? I know you haven't been down there lately."

Christine shook her head violently at Madame's suggestion. "I can't! Not even the chapel is safe anymore!"

Madame glared at Erik one last time before she moved over to her desk. She looked around at its messy top for a moment before she found the object she was searching for. She picked up the gilded rosary and brought it over to Christine and placed it in one of her shaking hands. "Here, take this. I can promise you nothing will haunt you down there tonight."

Christine clutched the string of beads to her chest and looked up at Madame Giry with sad eyes. "Thank you…"

"You're welcome child. Now go, and don't stay down there too long." She said as she opened the door for Christine. She watched as the girl ran down the hall and closed the door, making sure to lock it behind her. Sure that Christine was long gone and out of hearing distance, she whirled around to where Erik had been hiding moments before. "Erik, come out of those shadows immediately."

Erik slowly moved out of the dark that had protected him during Christine's visit, annoyed with Madame's tone. "What can I do for you?"

"How can you be so cold!? Did you not see her? How dare you! She thinks she is going mad! For God's sake, stop this madness now!" Madame Giry shouted as she paced her room.

Erik let out a cold laugh. "Can you not see it? I cannot." Erik said cynically and sat on her small couch.

Madame Giry stopped pacing at stared at Erik for a long time. "Christine is not you. Do not try to make her like you. She believes in all those things you have given up on, God, love, the good in all people, and to take that away from her is worse than any sin you've committed."

Erik arched his visible eyebrow. "How can you be so sure of that, Madame? Do you know the sins I committed, and possibly, still commit?"

Madame Giry was unfazed by Erik's comment. "God help me Erik, I will send her to another opera house before I will let you destroy her!"

Erik's cool look seemed to slither off his face at Madame's threat. "You wouldn't dare." His tone was harsh and cold, much like a frozen dagger and Madame Giry felt shivers run up and down her spine.

"Christine is as much my daughter as Meg, and I will not let harm befall any of them. If you keep this up I will move all of us to another, _distant_, opera. You will remain here and be king of your domain, although, I am curious, who will deliver your notes? Or see that the list of things you need to survive is taken care of?"

Erik angrily stood up and started his own pacing. "No, no…you will do no such thing!" He roared.

Madame did not allow herself to flinch and she squared her shoulders back. "Do not test me Erik. Leave Christine alone. Take your darkness back where it belongs."

Erik stopped pacing and looked at the woman before him, a look of pain and betrayal obvious on the visible portion of his face. His bright eyes caught the hard, dark ones of Madame Giry's and he felt the sting of defeat. Anger flooded his soul like a tidal wave and he let out an angry roar before disappearing through the secret tunnel he had entered in.

Madame Giry stared at the empty spot that used to be Erik for a few moments before she finally cradled her head in one of her hands and rubbed her throbbing temple. "I'm sorry Erik, there was no other way."

---

Down in the chapel, Christine finished up a prayer and blew out all but one candle, the candle she always left lit for her father, and stood up. She had finally been able to pray and talk to her father again, and although she had received no response or wisdom from him, she felt like a burden had been lifted from her tiny shoulders. With a happy smile she exited the chapel and made her way back to her room for the night. She was almost certain the darkness she had been fighting had been defeated.


	13. Author's Note

-1Hello to all my readers!

I just want to let you guys know I'm going away to Long Island for 3 weeks. My plane leaves Saturday morning at 6, so I'll probably have to leave my house around 2:30 or 3:30 this morning to get to the airport and get all my stuff checked and all that nonsense that goes with flying.

But, what I'm trying to say is this; You guys have been AMAZING with the reviews, and I've disappeared for a LOT longer than 3 weeks before, but I feel really bad about leaving you guys hanging. So I've already posted an update for 'Untitled' and I promise I'm trying to get at least one more chapter up for the other stories, since I won't be able to write any while I'm in New York.

Alright, well I'm going to go and try and write up some more chapters. I have a TON of packing left to do, so I can't promise I'll actually get another one out, but I promise I am trying!


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